


Day 4-5

by rhysgore



Series: Kinktober 2016 [4]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Bukkake, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Humiliation, Kinktober, M/M, Multi, Sex for Favors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 15:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8215013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: It's not like he has any other options.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for kinktober days 4-5: bukkake and humiliation. doubling up on some prompts because over the next week i have a series of work and familial commitments that will likely make it difficult for me to write every day.
> 
> additional warning for use of gendered slurs & feminizing language, jsyk

Big Boss was the glue that held everything together.

 

That much was obvious when he’d been still awake, running missions and day-to-day operations, keeping an eye on everything to make sure it was all functioning. He effortlessly commanded loyalty in his troops- every person that followed him worshipped the ground he walked on. No matter the circumstances by which they had come to be part of MSF, every one of them had a devotion to the man which went beyond respect, or admiration, or anything like that. It was love.

 

After he’d gone into a coma, it had been significantly harder for his XOs to pick up the slack. As much as they tried, neither Ocelot nor Kaz could inspire the same feelings in the troops they so desperately needed to keep. As more and more time passed, and rumors that Big Boss would never awaken started circulating with increasing regularity, they started having to develop their own ways to keep soldiers in line.

 

For Ocelot, it was easy. The “stick and carrot” method was tried, tested, and true, and he used it to great effect to keep a guiding, disciplinary hand over his units.

 

For Kaz, that wasn’t an option. He was a soldier in his own right, but compared to the base’s resident torture technician, troops were rarely afraid of what they frequently referred to as a “glorified accountant”.

 

He had one bargaining chip left, and it was one he didn’t like at all.

 

“Open your mouth.” A rough hand on his jaw gives him little choice, prying his lips and teeth apart just wide enough that someone can shove their cock in between, pelvis pressing forwards until Kaz’ nose is buried in thick pubic hair. He can feel the head of it brushing the back of his throat, but doesn’t react- his gag reflex had long since been killed.

 

Doesn’t stop the soldier from gripping both sides of his head, thrusting forwards in a futile attempt to make Kaz choke. Kaz takes it all almost effortlessly, swallowing down around it as the soldier gasps and moans.

 

There are… twelve of them, he thinks. He couldn’t actually remember the size of the unit, only that they were a disciplinary problem in need of correction. They needed a firm hand to guide them, like the two of Kaz’ which were currently being used as glorified sex toys, a pair of soldiers lazily thrusting themselves in and out of Kaz’ clenched fists. There’s another one at his back, holding his legs open and thrusting up into him with vigor, hands gripping his waist bruisingly hard.

 

“You feel so good, Commander,” the man behind him says, right in his ear, groaning loudly with every thrust. He’s the third that’s been in Kaz so far today, and his hole feels loose and wet with lube and cum alike. The wet sounds- from his mouth, from his ass, from the few soldiers who haven’t gotten their turn yet jerking off- are obscene. “So fuckin’  _ tight. _ Your slutty little ass needed a big, fat cock like mine in it, didn’t it? Yeah, I bet.”

 

Kaz hates doing this. He hates the sloppy, inelegant way the soldiers fuck that makes him feel more like an object than a person. He hates the endless stream of dirty talk, the voices that chime in to call him a slut, bitch, cumdump, filthy needy whore. He hates how dirty he feels every time he trades his body for a few more months of continued loyalty.

 

He especially hates the way they leave him every time, finishing on his face and chest, on his lower back, leaving him cum covered and disgusted with himself as they walk off in a back, high-fiving each other and laughing at their mutual conquest.

 

“Best pussy I’ve had in months,” one of them guffaws as the door shuts behind them, leaving Kaz alone in the dark. After a moment, he gets shakily to his feet, looking for something to clean himself off with. He feels gross- sticky and uncomfortable, still half-hard, with the acrid feeling of regret rising in his throat like bile. His face burns red in shame as he wipes himself down with the nearest piece of cloth he can find.

  
He hates doing this- it never gets any better, more enjoyable, or less embarrassing. But he really has no other choice. Not if he wants to keep his troops, his base, and his dreams.


End file.
